Yesterday was my son Sean's 20th birthday (he's the one in the middle of the photo above, the little brother). I'm using it as an excuse to dip back into my Father Knows Nothing archives to repost a few of my favorite stories. This is another one that didn't make it into the final version of the book, but beautifully sums up the relationship between Sean and his brothers when he was very young...
Being the little brother to two older brothers is a tough gig. If
the little brother has a big taunting mouth, it’s much much worse. Every day
becomes a life and death struggle.
Meet my youngest son Sean: He’s cute. He’s smart. And he’s lucky
he’s alive. Sean figured out at a very young age that no matter what he said or
did, his brothers were never going to like him, or treat him well. So, instead
of trying to win their favor, he went the other direction. Without succumbing
to emotion or histrionics, he pursued his life goal with dogged determination:
To make his brothers as miserable as possible. On purpose. As punishment
for not liking him.
I transcribed the following conversations before he even went into kindergarten.
Conversation
#1
Sean: Johnny, will you play with
me?
Johnny: Get away from me Sean.
Sean: It’s OK, Johnny. You don’t
have to play with me. I’m going up to your room to kill your favorite toy.
Johnny: DAAAAAAAD!
Conversation
#2
Sean: Johnny, will you play with
me?
Johnny: Get away from me Sean.
Sean: Your head is purple and when
your head is purple you have to play with me forever. It’s a rule.
Johnny: That’s not a rule, and my
head is not purple.
Sean: Yes it is.
Johnny: NO IT’S NOT PURPLE! YOU
CAN’T MAKE RULES LIKE THAT!
If you were the adult walking into the room during this
confrontation, who would you have sided with, the 4-year old seemingly talking
nonsense, or the nine year old who is having a meltdown about the
nonsense? Sean can smell their
weaknesses like a dog can smell fear. For instance, he quickly recognized that
Tommy had some quirky pet peeves, so he didn’t waste time with anything less
effective. He went right for the throat. It usually went a little bit like
this:
Sean: Tommy, will you play with
me?
Tommy: Go away Sean.
Sean: You want my pickle?
Tommy: I hate pickles. Get that away
from me.
Sean: Why? It’s only a pickle. See.
Here it is, Tommy. A pickle. Look, it’s coming right at you. Can you smell
it?
Tommy: AAAAAARGH! GET THAT AWAY FROM
ME!!!!
Again—picture yourself breaking up this fight. Who is being
unreasonable? The 11 year old boy screaming about a harmless pickle or the
emotionless little 4-year-old innocently holding a pickle in the air? If you
didn’t recognize the evil genius, you would side with the little guy every
time.
It’s passive aggressive brilliance. And it’s just the tip of
the iceberg. Every day as Tommy and Johnny were getting ready to walk out the
door, Sean rushed up to give them a “big hug.” Did he do this because he loved
his brothers? No, of course not. He did it because they hated him. After they ran screaming out of the house, Sean
turned around and smiled.
I must admit, I admired his mental toughness. They started this
fight by rejecting his friendly overtures to play, and instead of rolling over
and crying, he was fighting back. One
day after Tommy and Johnny went running out of the house screaming, he came
over to me and sat on my lap. He had a big smile on his face.
“We’re a team, Dad,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We’re a team, because Tommy & Johnny hate both of us,” he
said.
“They don’t hate us,” I argued half-heartedly. “They really love
us.”
“OK, Dad,” he said. Then, almost as afterthought, he added, “I
have an idea for dinner tonight.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you do some of your cartoon voices for me?”
“Your brothers hate those voices,” I reminded him. I could
have added that the mere threat of doing my cartoon voices was enough to get
them to do their homework, their chores, and anything else I asked, but of course,
he knew that.
“They
do?” he answered innocently, before flashing me that evil grin.
